Tag Archive: loss

Ok, not total strangers. Co-workers. But ones that I’m not all that intimate of the knowing. A post by Eggs that I just got to reading made me think of this conversation I got into a few days ago. Uncomfortable or funny? Still not too sure.

So, everyone gets known for something, right? My boss has become know for the fact that her underwear (thongs) are constantly sticking out of her pants as they ride down and her shirt rides up. I’ve become known for my tattoos sticking out of or in the case of one shirt, showing through my uniform. So as my boss and I were joking about this the other day, she leaves and “my girls” (my health care aids) say “I want to see your tattoos, move your shirt”. Sure, I’m in the office, I don’t have to get nekid to show them the most of it. They’ve all seen “judge not…” and glimpsed the edges of the feet. So I show the two there the rest of the feet, a quick lift of the back of my shirt presented “nothing else matters” across my spine and the dragon wrapped around my butterfly. And no, I didn’t pull my pants down to show them the rest of the dragon on my butt cheek. I just told them how far it went.

So they ask about the feet and I tell them the history. I’m not shy about it. Unlike most of us, I’ve actually had this conversation on a very regular basis and usually with relative strangers. One of my girls says that she’s had losses in the past too and then we get to the fertility issues. So she starts telling me how to get pregnant.

LOL. REALLY!?

Have you tried this, have you tried that, “have you tried doggy style and stay that way for half an hour after?”

I just stuck with a generic “I’ve tried it all”. I wasn’t going to get into a discussion of sexual positions and old wives tales to help conception at work. I had a feeling that the next one out her mouth would have been “have you tried getting hosed and banging in the back of a car?” so I made my exit quickly. “I’ve got to go get shift report from 2nd floor” and I bolted.

Does that make me evil? It’s hard to give a “sorry for your loss now shut your damn mouth you twit, you think I haven’t tried sex to conceive in the last 7 years?”

I was laughing and irritated all the way up the stairs. I still don’t know which one wins, but I’m leaning towards humour.

It’s been a year. Can you believe it? A year since I started this blog. A year since I was so full of grief and loss that I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

I felt so alone, desperate to find others in the same position. Wishing to help others by my experience even if it was only to prevent them from feeling as alone as I did.

I wanted people to talk about it. I was so tired of miscarriage being a taboo subject, people made to feel that they had to keep it hushed up like it was shameful. Do we hide our grief when our parents die? Our brothers, sisters, friends? Our living children? No. People expect grief and mourning. So why are we supposed to hide it when we lose an unborn child?

So, months after my second loss, I decided that not only would I talk about it to others, but I’d write about my experience and hope that it could reach others. And then I found you guys. A whole community of women sharing in the same struggle, each in their own way, and I can honestly say that I have never been so grateful for a group of strangers in my life. And many of us aren’t really strangers anymore.

You guys have seen me through some dark times and some grade A quality denial, nearly giving up but then hopping back on that overly flogged horse for one more try. You guys have listened and supported, not judging when I needed to get things off my chest that were less than sweet, laughed with me and cried with me too. We all know that this journey can make us a little less than sane and at times others may question whether or not our logic is human logic, but at least we know we’re NOT alone here. We can be crazy with vegetable soup logic together.

I don’t know how much I’ve grown in the last year, maybe not at all. I know that I’m no longer nearly debilitated (that sounds like a made up word) with grief. I can go more than 60 seconds without focusing on my losses. I can talk about my miscarriages to others without turning into a puddle (I didn’t say without emotion). And the biggest thing, I can feel some hope for the future. I may never raise another child. My son may never have brothers or sisters. I may never get pregnant again or I may have another loss. I don’t know. But at least I can HOPE that someday Mo’s Flying Spaghetti Monster will deem me worthy of the gift of another child (through any means…anyone have a spare they want to send my way?).

So thank you guys. Thanks for witnessing my crazy ass go through it all, but mostly just for being here. I’m going to keep on keeping on, keep hoping, and well…keep being a crazy ass for the most part. But at least I know I’m going to be ok.